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New Roleplay!!! Yay!
New Roleplay!!! Yay! Koffee's contribution:
******
Braelyn stared over the rolling hills of the kingdom wordlessly, expressing utter disrespect towards her "care-taker", as her mother had recently taken to calling Bell, a middle aged woman that seemed to have an endless supply of complaints and lessons.
"Are you listening to me?" Bell muttered irratably by Braelyn's side.
"No," she replied honestly. Bell sighed and rolled her eyes. She had long since resigned to Braelyn's moods, and would stubbornly sit through them.
"You know that Bridleton will never marry off their prince to a spoiled, irratible young child, don't you?" Bell's voice was gentler than usual, wary of upsetting her further.
"I'm aware of that," her voice was coarse and laced with supressed tears, "That is why I could care less what you're yammering about, seeing as I don't want to be married of to some 'Arian de Montage'," her voice dripped sarcasm and mock awe.
"Besides, he's probably some dolt that hasn't even found his Song yet," Braelyn's teeth dug stubbornly into her lip, and tears pricked the backs of her eyes, "And I've never even met him!" her voice cracked, and she collapsed into a pitiful heap next to Bell's feet, ashamed that a Princess should cry.
*****
I'm sorry, that's not very good, but I wanted to see what everyone else would add to it.
PS: In my next entries, I might start in first person, but I wanted to establish all the characters first :D
submitted by Koffee
(October 1, 2009 - 10:38 pm)
(October 1, 2009 - 10:38 pm)
Braelyn made a high, frustrated noise between her teeth. She threw herself backwards onto her bed.
"He hates me! I knew it! Why is always me?" She cast her eyes to Jara, who was standing hesitantly in the doorway, the bearer of bad news.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just thought you ought to know. I overheard them talking and..." she trailed off.
"Oh no, it's not your fault." Braelyn couldn't meet her eyes. No one should see her like this. Especially not this new, boyish companion. But somehow it felt right. No matter how hard she wanted to dislike Jara, something always kept her on the brink of it. It wasn't right.
"I can leave if you want," Jara offered politely.
"No, stay. I don't mind. Besides, I'm going to need your help. I've got to find a way to stop this wedding."
Jara sat next to her on the bed, eyes gleaming and brimming with mischief. Yes, Braelyn decided, I think I'm going to like Jara....
*****
Hope this is okay with you, Jenni :D Tell me if it's not.
(October 11, 2009 - 3:17 pm)
Sraela climbed down the tree, ripping her skirt even more. She didn't care. When she reached the ground, she took off running towards the thing she had seen. When she reached it, she kneeled and scooped it into her hand. It squeaked faintly, the curled up into a ball. Sraela laughed, something she hadn't done in a while. Then, she studied the creature.
It was covered in feathers, but it surely wasn't a bird. It had four wings and scaly feet. It was about three inches tall. Must be a baby, she thought. Sraela stroked the winged creature. Then she had an idea. She cupped the being in her hands and took off running towards the castle.
(October 11, 2009 - 3:41 pm)
At the cock's crow, just before the break of dawn, Jenette arose from her threadbare mat and shook the young boy Johann from his dreams, dreams of a better place. he looked up at Jenette sleepily and yawned, quietly obliging to her silent plea. technically, servants weren't supposed to help other servants with tasks that weren't theirs, but Jenette was weak and pained from her lack of sleep, and knew Johann would do as she asked. The younger boy watched her with cow eyes, shadowing her and trying to protect her from the wicked overseer, most times just getting in the way. But she asked for his help all the same.
She told Johann to fetch another mop from the closet a few corridors away, and resumed mopping the entrance hall. she scrubbed at the floor and gazed at her reflection. Nothing worth looking at, really. a girl a bit too gangly and skinny, with mousy brown hair and soft brown eyes. She didn't understand why the boy loved her, and her thoughts of Johann strayed pitifully offsubject to Prince Arian. And again she beat down her self esteem, and with one more shameful glance at her reflcetion, tried to make herself realize that he would never look her way. but something stirred inside her, refusing to give up hope, willing fate to let their paths cross once more.
(October 11, 2009 - 4:35 pm)
((@ Katie: Well... yes. Insane, a bit. :) But definitely romantic. I like the idea.))
//Arian//
Arian swatted at one of the maid's hands. "Yes, it fits!" he snapped. "Thank you!"
He was being fitted for wedding clothes, which seemed largely pointless to him. Not only did he already possess suits and coats galore, one hundred times fancier than what a commoner married in, he also had no intention whatsoever of marrying that little vixen. What was her name? Brady?
The maid backed off quickly, and he vaguely recognized her by a jagged cut on her cheek. "Sorry," he muttered. "But I'm in a bit of a hurry. I have somewhere more important to be." His thoughts jumped to the wicked Fahren's hideout in the forest.
The girl nodded, her cheeks reddening a bit and making the scar stand out more. "My bad, sire," she whispered.
Arian felt a thread of guilt pulling at him. "No, it's okay," he mumbled. "Not your fault, really."
He scowled at the shy smile she gave him as she left the room to fetch more pins for the seamstress.
(October 12, 2009 - 11:37 am)
((You love the maid??? Braelyn feels ever-so-slightly betrayed! She's at least trying to make this marrige work!!! ARGH! (I actually quite like the idea of JenettexArian, though Braelyn doesn't. In my nano I believe that it's going to be the other way around. He loves her, but she loves his brother. Then they war together *squee*))
(October 12, 2009 - 10:34 pm)
Jara looked at the princess nervously. "I'm sorry, Princess. I just thought you would want to know before you are tied into marriage? Or are you still going to marry him?" she asked quietly. The princess sighed. "I don't know." she confessed. Jara nodded. "Let's talk about something else." she suggested. Braelyn nodded gratefully. "I noticed you're not wearing split skirts anymore, like you were yesterday when Bell introduced us?" she asked. Jara scowled. "Aunt Bell is a blackmailer. She went through my bags and took some of my tools and traded them for all of my split skirt dresses except for one. But at least we've agreed that I don't have to wear corsets." she explained sulkily. "Ah. Corsets are horrible.", agreed Braelyn. "But what my aunt doesn't know is that I'm very good at sewing as well as my tomboyish traits. I can easily fix up the new dresses she gave me. And she'd never be able to tell, either." Jara's trademark smirk came back slightly. "Do you like riding, Princess?" she asked. "Riding outfits are quite good for running around in as well. Oh, and do you know where the pages usually are?" she asked randomly. Braelyn looked puzzled. "Near the offices, I would suppose. Why?" she said curiously. Jara grinned. "Yesterday I stuck my tongue out at one of them and startled him so much he tripped and dropped all of his papers, so I wanted to apologize. Before tormenting him again tomorrow, of course." she explained mischeviously. Braelyn sighed. "You really are a tomboy, Jaraine."
----------------
Jara had set off to find the pageboy, after assuring Braelyn that she could find her own way around. She spotted him and dashed towards him, giggling at his expression. The boy was about a year older than her, it seemed, and was not enjoying the prospect of confronting her again. She stopped abruptly in front of him. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm Jaraine Millar, niece to Bell, the princess' caretaker." she rattled off, her articulation precise. He stared. "Oh, your Bell's niece, are you. I'm Johnan. And it's perfectly fine about yesterday. I thought you were the younger sister of the visiting prince at first is all. I've got a sister just like you at home." he grinned. "Oh?" Jara laughed. "Well, my apologies. Perhaps we could hang out sometimes when I can evade my horrible aunt.". And with that, she dashed off once more, this time back to the princess' suite.
(October 13, 2009 - 12:26 pm)
Grahhh!!*pulls hair* you're not supposed to know I went through your bags!! You were supposed to think you had been careless.
(October 13, 2009 - 2:46 pm)
Jenette shut the door behind her and let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her heart was beating faster than the speed of light, drumming so loud she was sure the prince could hear even through the thick, majestic wood. She felt the color return to her cheeks and took another breath.
It had gone well, she thought, or at least she hadn't been whipped this time.
It was quite awkward fitting him for his wedding, though. If only the tailor hadn't fallen ill. although if the tailor had been healthy, she never would've gotten the courage to smile at him, or even speak to him, non the less. He had been quite the gentlemen, after he had apologized, anyway. But this worried her even more, for all the servants spoke of his bitter behavior. Arian was acting suspicous nowadays, they said. But solving this mystery was at the back corner of her mind. Now she was just concentrating on keeping composed.
Suddenly her brain was able to work again.
The sewing kit! she remebered. Yes. Seams. Thimbles. Yes.
then she went to fetch those things, wondering how in the world she would tell Johann this, who was waiting with bated breath back in the servants' quarters, helpless to the dangerous turmoil Jenette may be caught in.
(October 13, 2009 - 3:12 pm)
((@ Koffee: Your nano romances are going to be so much better done than mine... ;)
@ Katie: I adore Jenette as a character, by the way.))
//Arian//
Arian stared blankly at Fahren. "You want me to do what?"
"Your father. Kill him."
Arian stared. "What?"
Fahren rolled his eyes. "You do understand English, don't you boy? Father. Dad. Mother's husband...? And kill. I shouldn't need to explain that bit. You know. Kill. Stab, poison, murder, do away with... Whatever."
"Me?"
"If not you than that's a very interesting rock I'm asking to be my assassin--"
"No, no, sir," said Arian quickly, face glowing. "You misunderstand. I'd be more than glad to do this for you, sire. Honoured."
Fahren smiled faintly. "Then don't stand there groveling at my feet, boy, get on with it."
Arian nodded and began to leave. As he departed, his master's voice drifted back to him: "And for god's sake, boy, do something about that scratch on your hand, it's going to get infected."
(October 13, 2009 - 5:00 pm)
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I already posted today. Face it, I'm obsessed. You know, I'm tired of everyone quitting on roleplays amidst the action. Let's make this one really long, make a new thread if we have to. (of course that's entirely up to you, Koffee)
Jenette slunk quietly into the dark shadows of the trees. She needed time to herself. The cook had said some of the trees held secrets, but she didn't believe that.
At least not until Arian stepped out of a hollowed oak, his face bloodless and his eyes unfocused. Jenette froze, petrified, willing herself to melt into the shadows. She wanted to bolt, bolt like a deer in the path of a merciless hunter. What would happen next? She stared into his eyes, his infuriated, angry eyes that even now were the only thing that kept her on solid ground. But if she had to die, she would stare into those eyes and drown in them, the most painless way.
"I'll never tell!" she hissed, choking back a terrified sob. "I just got here! that was the only thing I saw, I swear!" she stifled her tears to no avail, but the water ran down her cheek, over the scar on her face that stood out, a faded pink.
Who knew love was so dangerous?
(October 13, 2009 - 7:58 pm)
Cardea ran through the meadow, trying to keep up with her brother. Her small lap harp bounced against her side, reminding her of the joyous discovery of just three days before. Her uncle's death shouldn't be a glad event, of course, and the death itself wasn't. But when Father had brought home the harp among some other things from Uncle's house, she had seen it instantly, and she couldn't resist picking it up and playing it. The tune that had come out had made everyone look around to see where it was coming from, since they didn't hear music every day. Since then, the little harp, and the knowledge of her Song had been Cardea's.
((My character. I think she's a noble placed with a peasant family, cliché though it is. I thought of her before I thought of how I'd work her in, and I couldn't bear to leave her behind.))
(October 13, 2009 - 5:34 pm)
Sraela ran to her cot on the floor of the palace. There she released the creature. It blinked up at her, its tiny wings fluttering. Then, to Sraela's surprise, it began to hum. Sraela felt herself taken in by the music, and began to hum along. The music seemed strangely familiar. And at that moment, Sraela knew the Song was hers.
The dragon quieted, then began to glow. Its wings and neck grew long and slender, and its feathers became a shimmering green-gold. Then the glowing stopped. Sraela stood in amazement as a three-foot-tall creature sat before her. "A Song Dragon," she murmured. Such creatures were rare. They could only fully mature when they had guided a person to their Song. And when they they did, they formed an eternal bond with the person. Sraela put her hand on the creature's back, stroking it. The dragon seemed to vibrate. Then it nudged her onto its back. Then, Sraela knew what she must do.
"Fly," she told the dragon. And together they glided into the horizon.
(October 14, 2009 - 4:38 pm)
((Katie, you are officially *awesome* in my Mental Book of Awesome Awesomeness. Jenette too. ;D /randomness))
//Arian//
Arian jumped practically a mile. "Good lord!" he hissed, swearing.
The girl was crying, and he realized he had frightened her considerably. A moment later he realized it was the same maid he'd had previous fleeting encounters with, recognizing her by the scar on her cheek. Somewhere in the back of him, he felt a dull throb of guilt.
"I won't tell anyone," she said softly, through the tears. "Really. I--"
Arian held up a hand. "Be quiet," he said, not exactly unkindly. "You have every right to be here. As for me..." He shrugged, the shadow of a smile on his lips. "I wasn't actually *inside* the tree. Not having council with an evil warlord plotting my father's downfall. Just leaning against it." He had no idea why he was telling her all this. Or... whatever he was saying.
The maid nodded, seeing what he was getting at. There was a brief silence. She broke it by adding quietly, fearfully, "I'm Jenette."
Arian's smile broadened a bit, and he extended his arm. "Will you walk with me, Jenette?"
Sure, he was having her on, but the poor girl couldn't have too wonderful a life. It wouldn't be too much trouble to give her the kind of thrill she'd tell her grandchildren about.
He told himself that that was why he offered to walk with the serving girl back to the palace.
(October 14, 2009 - 6:21 pm)
Mary W., no, I disagree. You are the awesome one.
All Jenette could think about was the burning sensation embedded in her cheeks and the tingling in her shoulder where the prince touched her. she couldn't even think about the fact that by the hand of him, the entire country may head into chaos.
And meanwhile, a youth weeded the garden, watching in horror as his only friend fell into a danger that he couldn't save her from. falling in love.
(I know, I've already used an expression like that, but I'm running out of material here!)
(October 15, 2009 - 3:33 pm)
((Aww, thanks. :)
Re: running out of material: I know, me too. Here, I'll try and have something mildly exciting happen to shake things up a bit... Also, I'm not so good with tense/romantic scenes, so...))
//Arian//
As they reached the castle gates, Arian turned to the girl. Jenette. (It was funny, he thought vaguely, he perfectly remembered her name and yet couldn't recall his fiancee's for the life of him.) He admitted to himself that he had not spent time with her out of charity, but had genuinely enjoyed the brief walk.
He lightly touched the scar on her cheek. His fault. "Perhaps," he said quietly, "we might do this again tomorrow evening?"
Her voice was soft and her face aglow. "As you wish."
He smiled ruefully. "I hope you understand that that would be moderately dangerous, because by this time tomorrow my father will be dead, courtesy of yours truly."
Something passed over Jenette's face for a second and then was gone. "I understand."
Arian grinned. "Marvelous." He pressed her hand to his lips, then disappeared, knowing that whatever was going on here could not end well.
~
The village was abuzz with news the next morning; the king had been found murdered in his bed, and everything was in uproar. Arian grimaced as he remembered two things in all-too-sharp detail: the soft touch of Jenette's cheek, and the cold hilt of the sword he'd killed his father with only hours before.
(October 15, 2009 - 6:47 pm)